SEALed With A Kiss: Heroes With Heart

by Low, Gennita

  “I was born here in San Diego. My father worked construction and my mom was a legal secretary. My dad died in a fall on a building site when I was young. My mom raised me on her own. She died five years ago. Breast cancer.” He controlled his expression with an effort though the ache of loss and the guilt was still there. Why had she not told him how ill she was? Why had she waited for him to come home? She’d waited too long and she’d died alone.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The soft, husky sincerity he heard in her tone tugged his thoughts back. He turned his head to look at her. “I am, too.”

  “What was she like?”

  Despite the anger a smile tugged at his lips. “A hard ass, but loving with it. I got mixed up with the wrong crowd as a teenager. Nearly got into a gang. She threatened to quit her job and hound my every step until I straightened up my act.”

  “It must have worked.”

  “Yeah, it did. She talked me into taking ROTC. Said if I was going to join a gang it might as well be one that would teach me the right kind of discipline. I stayed with it and earned an academic scholarship for college.”

  “Do you have any other family?”

  “Some distant cousins on my father’s side who live in New Mexico. My mother’s father is still alive. He lives in LA.”

  “Brett said your father was Navaho.”

  “Yeah, half, which makes me a quarter.”

  “Because of your skin and hair color, I imagine it’s easier to get around undetected in foreign ports.”

  “Sometimes.” The defensive feelings caught him by surprise. “That isn’t why you feel so uneasy with me, is it?”

  Her face went blank with shock, then she sat up. “No! Why would you even think that? I mean, that I feel uneasy with you.”

  “You’re on edge with me.”

  For a moment she stared at him then looked away. “It isn’t you. I mean—” She rocked forward to rise to her feet. It took a moment for her to establish her balance, and for the first time, he realized what a struggle her injury proved for her.

  He waded from the hot tub by way of the steps and grasped a towel from the end table. Turning aside to cover the lingering effects of his arousal, he wrapped it around his waist.

  He hadn’t meant to bring things to a head between them—those puns were killing him but he just couldn’t leave it alone. He had to know.

  Her features tense, she faced him. “I’m not prejudiced against you because of your Indian heritage, Hawk.”

  “Is it because I’m responsible for what happened to Brett?”

  “Are you?”

  “I didn’t hit him in the head. No. But it was my mission, this is my team. Every man in it is my responsibility.”

  Some of the tension left her features. “As much as I’d like a target to vent my frustration and anger at, I can’t really hold you responsible for Brett’s condition.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I don’t want to be drawn back into the life again.”

  “Military life?”

  “Yes.” Zoe folded her arms against her midriff as though cold. “You don’t have to enlist to be a part of it. I used to love it, the travel, new places, new people, the troops in uniform, their shoes spit shined, their brass polished until it gleamed. The singsong sound of a drill instructor calling out orders on the parade ground. Seeing them march in formation across the base. I loved it all. Then Desert Storm happened—”

  “And your father was killed.” He sucked in his breath as though he’d been hit in the solar plexus. Just when he thought he had things figured out something else cropped up.

  She nodded, her body taut, her features carefully blank. “Brett being hurt was like—” Her throat worked as she swallowed and she shook her head. “I met you and your men. I’ve broken bread with you, laughed with you, been embraced by your families. I’m just having some trouble dealing with all these emotions, all these memories—”

  He rested a hand upon her shoulder as she edged toward the door. The tension of her muscles as she struggled to retain her composure thrummed beneath his touch.

  “You have to believe that we’re better trained, better prepared, than they are, Zoe. We’re going to be all right.”

  “I hope so, I really do.”

  She turned to face him and raised a hand to cup his cheek, her thumb moving along his cheekbone in a caress that caught him by surprise. His heart rate shot up as he met the clarity of her gaze.

  “I didn’t mean anything derogatory about your heritage. I’m sorry if it came out wrong.”

  He caught her hand when she started to withdraw. “It’s all right, Zoe.” He braced an arm against the door facing above her and shifted closer. The desire to feel her body against his made his breathing unsteady. He caught a whiff of her vanilla shampoo and a hint of some other floral scent on her skin.

  She leaned back against the door facing, aligning her body to his stance. With a foot of space between them, they seemed to generate enough heat to singe the hair off his chest. Her fingers curled around his thumb as it pressed into her palm bringing to mind her fingers closing around other parts of his anatomy.

  “I just meant that you should use whatever you had to stay safe.” Her voice softened, her Kentucky accent, growing thick as honey.

  “Yeah, I got that,” He managed, though he felt starved for breath, as though he’d just finished a ten K run on a sandy beach.

  She bit her bottom lip, leaving a glossy sheen of moisture behind. He bit back a groan. Blood shot to his groin. Jesus—Beads of moisture tracked an itchy path down his spine. It hurt to drag his gaze from her mouth.

  Her mother was only a few yards down the hall. She trusted him. Zoe trusted him. It would be a breach of both their trusts for him to take advantage. He couldn’t have an affair with his best friend’s sister. He couldn’t offer her any emotional security. He wasn’t the permanent kind.

  All those rationalizations didn’t ease the tight heavy feeling of his arousal, or the ache of need that clenched inside him. He forced himself to relinquish Zoe’s hand and take a step back. “It’s getting late and you should be in bed.” His voice sounded husky, almost a growl.

  For a moment she remained still. Slowly, she straightened away from the door facing, and he curved a steadying hand around her upper arm. Her head down, she brushed passed him, her voice almost a whisper as she said, “Good night, Hawk.”

  He listened to her progress through the house until a door closed. Hawk drew a deep breath to ease his pounding heart and realized he was trembling.

  Zoe leaned back against the bedroom door. Her heart beat so she could barely breathe, her legs felt weak, and her skin tight and hypersensitive. She caught back a groan. Dear God. All this and all he had done was look at her and hold her hand. If he ever kissed her, touched her, she’d probably burst into flames. She’d thought for a moment that he would kiss her, and she had been half wild for him to do so. Had he been able to read her desire in her face? God, she hoped not.

  Forcing her legs to move, she limped to the bed and lay down. Feeling as though she might fly apart, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and curled into a ball. Frustrated desire writhed and twisted inside her. Several minutes passed before her pulse settled to a steadier rhythm. As the adrenaline leached from her system, a wave of melancholy brought tears to her eyes.

  She should have never stayed to talk to him, should have never allowed him to pressure her into sharing her feelings about the Corps and all the memories being here had generated. It had left her too vulnerable to other emotions. She had never experienced anything like this driving desire to open herself physically and emotionally to another human being. It was wonderful and powerful and terrifying.

  The only other time she had been tempted to lower the barriers had been disastrous for her. Tyler had shaken her confidence in herself. It had taken months to deal with the feelings of inadequacy and pain the experience had generated. She’d doubted, for a long
time, whether any man could look past her scars and see her as a desirable woman.

  With Hawk, she wanted to be desirable, but knew she wasn’t. If by some miracle she inspired a response in him, she’d have to act on it. God, how terrifying.

  Her feelings for Tyler had been lukewarm in comparison to her response to Hawk. Because of that, he wouldn’t just have the ability to hurt her, he could annihilate her.

  A sound half despair, half longing bubbled up from deep inside her. She dragged a pillow from the other side of the bed and buried her face in it.

  If she trusted him, and he reciprocated, and was shipped out, what then? The hollow desolate feeling the idea generated didn’t bear thinking about. She didn’t want a boyfriend in the military. She couldn’t get involved with Hawk, she just couldn’t.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  Hawk took a quick look in the mirror. He hadn’t been in uniform since returning to the states. His commanding officer had interviewed him in the hospital in Iraq and a couple of officers from headquarters had visited him in the hospital stateside, and now they were probing again into the mission.

  What the hell had happened to Brett? Who had tried to cave his skull in? Not a tango. They’d have raised an alarm and been swarming all over the building searching for the rest of them. That left someone on the team.

  A hollow ache hit his stomach more painful than a bullet wound.

  Flash had been outside the building the whole time monitoring the tangos on the roof. His periodic clicks over the radio had kept them posted on their movements.

  But he could have slipped in just as they had.

  Derrick had raised the alarm that Cutter hadn’t come out. Doc had clicked his mic just before.

  Bowie had set his package and taken cover outside the building before that, just as he had.

  Any one of the others could have set his explosives package and been out of the building in time. They were all fast enough.

  But how long had Cutter been unconscious?

  Greenback had been two blocks down keeping an eye on their rear security. He’d had his hands full taking out two tangos blocking their route.

  Hawk raked both hands through his hair and pushed the heels of his hands against his temples. He’d been over and over it a million times.

  How could one of his men turn on his own teammate?

  Fuck!

  Why had this happened? There had to be a reason behind it.

  That was the key.

  But how the hell was he supposed to find out if he couldn’t talk to his men. They couldn’t talk to each other about the mission.

  But what had triggered Brett’s attack might have happened before the mission. And that was fair game.

  Hawk grabbed his bonnet from the dresser and shoved it under his arm.

  Zoe’s and Clara’s voices came from the kitchen as he limped down the hall. As he entered the room, the two grew silent. Zoe gazed at him for a long moment her expression guarded.

  “You look very handsome in your uniform, Hawk,” Clara said with a smile.

  Hawk returned the gesture. “Thanks. I have a meeting at O-eight-thirty at HQ. I thought you could drop me off and I’d catch a ride over to the hospital afterward.”

  Zoe rose to her feet. “Would you like some coffee before we go?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  Clara rose. “We’re ready. I’ll get my purse.” Her sandals clicked against the hard wood floors as she walked down the hall.

  Zoe turned to put the milk away, cleared the cups from the table, and loaded the dishwasher. Her usual quick movements appeared jerky.

  Hawk sidled up close behind her and rested a hand against the small of her back. “What is it, Zoe?”

  “Is it about Brett?”

  How had she known? Had she read his body language, his expression? “You know I can’t tell you that.”

  “Don’t you think we’re entitled to know what happened?”

  Hawk remained silent for a moment. “I was there and I’m not sure what happened, Zoe. We may never know.”

  Her jaw grew taut. “I won’t accept that.” She raised her gaze to his and was as close to tears as he’d ever seen her.

  Every instinct screamed for him to hold her and offer her comfort.

  As though she read his intentions she shook her head and slipped away from him to pick up the purse hanging on one of the chairs.

  *

  Zoe climbed behind the wheel and fastened her seatbelt. Had her mother been more at ease with the busy traffic in route to the base, she’d have asked her to drive to make it easier to avoid Hawk’s gaze.

  Though he tried to hide it, tension had settled in his shoulders and the hands he rested on his thighs.

  They stopped at the gate and waited while the MP’s checked their passes then signaled them through. Following Hawk’s directions, she pulled into a parking slot in front of a single story brick building.

  “If you need a ride, just call mom’s cell and I’ll come pick you up,” Zoe said as he unbuckled his seat belt.

  He nodded. “I think I’ll be able to catch a ride, but I’ll keep it in mind just in case.” He rested a hand on her arm, and for a moment his gaze rested on her face before he got out of the car. He retrieved a gym bag from the back seat, and closing the door, walked away down the path.

  Clara transferred to the seat Hawk vacated. For a moment, both their attention rested on his back as he walked up the crisply edged sidewalk to the door of the building. “There’s something about a man in uniform,” Clara said on a sigh, her gaze followed Hawk, but something in her expression focused inward.

  Zoe fought against the pain to draw a full breath, as memories of her own rose up to haunt her.

  *

  “That has to be the ugliest apartment complex in San Diego,” Clara said.

  Zoe turned the key in the ignition killing the engine and leaned forward to look up at the blocky building with its regimented lines. “Brett’s only here to sleep and eat. All he needs is a place to hang his hat.”

  “I suppose so. Once he finds the right woman, he’ll have to move,” Clara said, a note of forced determination in her voice.

  Would that happen for her brother in his current occupation? Would it happen—? Zoe flinched from the thought, shoved her sunglasses onto her face, and grabbing her purse, exited the car.

  She popped the trunk and looked down at the olive drab sea-bag taking up nearly the whole compartment.

  “I think we need a dolly,” Clara said. “Stay here and I’ll go in and ask management if they have one.”

  Zoe lowered the trunk lid, limped around to the passenger side of the car and leaned against the quarter panel to rest her leg.

  She had to deal with these feelings about seeing Hawk back in uniform. He wore it so naturally. It suited his physique. Oh hell! Who was she kidding? It wasn’t the uniform that bothered her. It was caring for the man wearing it.

  Seeking a distraction from her thoughts, she turned to look down the street. Across the street two cars down a man stared at her from his vehicle. She took in blond hair and a strong jaw, though dark sunglasses obscured the rest of his face. His concentrated intensity, the stillness of his posture as he studied her punched her heart into an anxious race. A car whipped past between them. She took the opportunity to turn her back to him.

  “Hello pretty lady.”

  Zoe started at the familiar voice, then smiled, relief easing the tension from her body. “Where on earth did you get that shirt?”

  Flash laughed, his blue eyes alight with humor. “Nice, huh?” He twisted around to show off the bizarre print. His back and torso appeared to have been attacked by a paintball gun, a flowerbed, or both. “I got it in Hawaii. It’s my lucky shirt.”

  Zoe looked over the top of her sunglasses at him. “Does it work?”

  “I was hoping it would,” he said, his grin oozing charm.

  “Why Harold, I thought we already had an understandi
ng.”

  He chuckled. “The other guys will be jealous.” He leaned against the car beside her and folded his arms.

  Why wasn’t she more drawn to this man? He exuded charisma, was funny and sweet. But just didn’t do it for her like—

  “Are you just hanging out here or are you waiting for someone?” he asked.

  “Mom went in to see if the manager had a dolly.”

  “What for?”

  Zoe glanced across the street in search of the car and man. Both were gone. She shrugged off the residue of apprehension.

  “We were going to unpack Brett’s duffle, but it’s too heavy for either of us to lift.”

  He straightened away from the car. “I can take care of that for you.”

  She smiled. “Do you live here?”

  “No, I just recognized Hawk’s vehicle and saw you standing here. I stopped to say hey and see how things were going.”

  She ignored the ‘how things were going’ part to avoid disrupting the carefree tone of the moment. “So, you’re not busy right now?”

  He looked at his watch. “I got a few minutes before I have to be somewhere. I can do this for you.”

  “Thank you, Flash.”

  “I like it better when you call me Harold,” he said as he moved around the back of the vehicle and flipped open the trunk. He managed to wiggle the canvas bag free from the tight space and, grasping the handle on the side, swung it up onto his shoulder.

  Zoe rushed to slam the trunk closed and proceeded him to the apartment complex door. A man with dark hair exited the building just as they reached the entrance. He held it open for them with a nod.

  “May I borrow your cell phone? Mom won’t know where I am and might worry if she shows back up at the car and I’m not there.”

  “It’s hooked to my belt,” he said, raising an elbow to give her access to his waist.

  Zoe dialed her mother’s number and arranged to meet her at the apartment with the key. “You could put that down until we get upstairs,” Zoe said when he continued to balance the bag even after they entered the elevator.

  “I’d just have to pick it up again. And besides it gives me the opportunity to impress you.”